The Devil's Opus
by OneLastBird
Summary: Crowley always knew he was one of a kind, but he never thought a little red smoke would catch Lucifer's eye. Thanks to the Devil's meddling he's discovered the magic of friendship. Too bad he wants to knock his new friends' heads togethor so they'll stop being a bunch of morons... AU from 'Abandon All Hope...' onwards.
1. Abandon All Hope

Dean had asked me, "What happens to you if we go up against the Devil and loose?"

Honestly I was surprised he would even utter such a stupid question. I'd either be torn twelve ways to Sunday or be condemned to an eternity of torment. It's _Lucifer_. What did he _think_ would happen?

I fed the boys a couple of lines, said something about a vacation, and got out of there before gigantor could load the Colt and try to shoot me again. I didn't go far though. Despite what I said, my house - with its Enochian wards and layers of magic - was about the safest place on the planet.

Too bad that wasn't saying much. If Lucifer wanted to, he could tear the place apart like paper.

I had to fight to keep my hands from shaking. Now that I finally got to meet the Winchesters face to face I had to admit, I was underwhelmed. They really were a pair of functioning morons, and here I was trusting _them_ with my grand finale.

The only thing that brought me even a modicum of comfort was the knowledge that despite their idiocy, these two had one essential talent: beating the odds.

All I had left to do was hunker down with some good whiskey and wait.

The big showdown came and went. The night was quiet, but I could feel it. _He_ was still out there. _He_ was stronger than ever, and _His_ attention was on me like a cold wind off the moors.

I turned my focus on the little coin my valet had hidden in the Winchesters' car. The gaudy vehicle was screaming up the I-49 towards Jasper, Missouri. I couldn't see in without going there, and there was no way I was leaving my house now. All I could do was listen, and though I could hear them both breathing just fine, they weren't talking.

So the Winchesters were alive, Lucifer was alive… did they actually manage to _miss?_

Now my hands really were shaking. I stood, downed the rest of my drink in one gulp, and got moving. So I placed my fate in the wrong hands. So the Devil was probably out to tear me a new one. There was no way I was going to sit around and wait for him.

I gathered the most powerful weapons I had to me, cast a few impressive spells. I would run. I would hide, and I would find some other way to deal with the damn Devil.

Only… I couldn't run…

I tried to teleport again, but nothing happened.

"Bullocks…"

Lucifer was right outside the front gate. He was calling me… not in a voice I could hear, but one I could _feel_ , and the feeling was that I should go outside and meet my maker.

It was nearly impossible to resist.

" _Get bent,"_ I muttered to the empty room. My feet were sluggish at first, but they picked up speed as I ran to the basement. Escape tunnels. Gotta love 'em.

I came out in a dense stand of trees about forty feet from the back wall of my property. I wouldn't be seen coming out the hatch and I'd have a good head start in the direction of 'not where Lucifer is.'

"Hello Crowley."

 _"Bloody Hell!"_ Speak of the Devil, I came out of the trees and there He was with a bloody smile on his face like he was greeting an old chum.

To my vessel's eyes he was a man; blond hair, strong brow, _horribly_ decaying skin. To me he was a world's worth of power and light condensed into a tiny, human sized space. Looking directly at him was like looking at the sun.

"I don't know why you're trying to run. I only wanted to meet you." He tilted his head and frowned, eyes glittering with concern.

My true form shuddered and swirled like a hurricane, but I didn't let it show on my vessel. Outwardly I was the picture of calm. I could try to attack him, but nothing I had on me was more powerful than the Colt. I would have to play along. "Um… How do you do?"

"My head hurts." He pointed to the middle of his brow. "According to Dean Winchester, that's your fault."

It was a short battle between fury and fear. Fury won out. "He... he _told you?!"_

Lucifer held up his hand and I froze… literally. It was as though I was trapped inside a block of invisible ice, unable to move. In some places it was so cold it burned; I could feel my vessel's skin charring black in several random spots. Only they weren't random.

 _No, no, no…_

Those spots on my skin were covered in Enochian wards written so subtly that not even an Angel could detect them… and Lucifer was burning them off!

It only lasted a couple of seconds and he was talking again. "Dean didn't say a thing. It is simply that he's human. They're… easy to read." He flicked his wrist and I was dragged towards him until I was close enough that he clapped a hand on my shoulder. With only a thin layer of flesh between myself and God's Shiniest Angel, the cold became a million times worse. "You don't have to be afraid," he said gently. "Like I said, I only wanted to meet you."

I swallowed and found my voice; managed to croak out, _"Why?"_

"Because _you_ rebelled." He said it like he caught his kid smoking. "And unlike my Father, I didn't give my creations that option."

I had to bite down on a curse. No wonder every other Demon was so creepily willing to dance to the Archangel's tune. They didn't have the freedom to do otherwise. Nothing but mindless slaves…

Lucifer said, "I'll admit, it did cross my mind to simply eliminate you."

He tightened his death grip on my shoulder and his other hand cupped the side of my face. I shut my eyes as I flinched away from my vessel's nerves. As much as I wanted to wrench the body out of his grip, it refused to do more than stand there and shudder.

I have never felt more trapped in my entire existence.

The Angel just kept talking. "Then I thought about it, and a Demon that can ignore all my failsafes and try to kill me? It should be impossible. I thought I should at least have a look at you."

I was startled by a tug on my ethereal form, and then a force gripped me tight and started dragging me out of my vessel. I desperately tried to cling to the safety of flesh and bone, but there was no use. Suddenly the empty body collapsed as I was forced outside; a mercurial cloud of red smoke trying to stream away into the night.

I was tethered, though… held in place by invisible bonds.

Without the filter of human senses, the world was light, shadow, and energy, with only the barest impression of the physical. Like this I had no filter, no protection against Lucifer's pure, burning light.

And here I thought Holy water was bad! This was like taking a shower in liquid nitrogen!

Only I had no skin to burn off; no nerves to kill. The agony was unchanging and unending and I was being pulled closer to the source.

"Shhh... Easy, easy. I know it hurts." Lucifer spoke only with his human voice, soft and cooing. If the Archangel inside made so much as a whisper right now I'd be destroyed. "I promise, I don't want to cause you pain, but I have to know."

I was directly in front of him now. _Too close… too close…_

He reached out and laid a rotting hand against me as though I was solid. I tried to shrink away, going from flowing smoke to a small, dense cloud of fog. It did nothing.

His Grace was millimeters away, barred from me by the thinnest layer of human skin. He whispered, "I'm sorry."

And then _pain_ … agony beyond words, perfect and pure, lasting a moment and a millennia. Nothing in all of creation could cause such suffering. This was the brilliant light of God falling upon a shadow; searing it into oblivion.

But shadows are black…

 _Demons_ are black…

Lucifer's Grace withdrew along with his hold on me and I was allowed to limp back into my vessel. I was a wreck, weak and freezing, the ice burning me through to my core. I buried myself as deep down inside my flimsy shelter as I could get.

I stayed like that for what must have been an eternity, quivering as wave after wave of absolution rolled through me.

When I finally had the strength to reach out for my senses I expected to find myself lying in a thousand years of rubble and dust. Instead I found something much worse: Lucifer sitting in a chair a few feet away.

His head was down. His eyes pierced the pages of a very old and careworn copy of 'Paradise Lost.' Slowly he marked his place in the book and closed it. "You're awake?" He looked up and straight at me.

Something small and foreign fluttered in my chest like a trapped bird.

I tried to get up and as far away from him as possible, but I could only thrash in place. I stopped and examined my situation. We were in a dark old room of ancient stone, an actual torch in the wall providing the only light. It was the 'Decaying Castle Chic' that belonged to the royal chambers in Hell.

I was restrained by thick leather bonds etched in binding sigils. They held my wrists and ankles with a final strap across my chest, but I wasn't on a rack. I was strapped down yes, but on a wooden bed.

I was still in my expensive suit as well. Lucifer wasn't going to torture me in it, was he? That would _ruin_ it!

There was that fluttering again as my eyes fell on an IV bag and the line stretching from it down into my left arm. The fluid that was pouring into me was dark, dark red. Blood?

 _Bullocks…_

I suddenly knew what that birdy sensation was: fear. Not a strong sense of self-preservation, not a desire to avoid pain, but real _human_ fear.

"You've been unconscious for three days," Lucifer said, drawing my attention back to him. The wave of absolute terror that washed over me was staggering. "At first I was afraid I had destroyed you, but you've exceeded my expectations."

"You touched me with your _Grace!"_ How had he _not_ destroyed me?!

His smile was unerringly proud. "And you _withstood_ it. I wasn't sure - there's never been a red Demon before – but I had hope…"

He stood and came over to me, ran a hand along the edge of the bed. I started shaking and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop. It didn't even feel like I was in a meatsuit. I felt solid, alive, and oh so fragile.

"The blood is taking effect, isn't it?" He leaned in close to my face. It didn't hurt as much to look at him now, but that fluttering in my chest turned into an ache. I closed my eyes and turned my head away. He laughed. "Oh yeah. It's taken effect."

I was breathing too fast. The hammering of my vessel's heart echoed painfully through me as I struggled to bring some piece of myself back under control.

Lucifer started pacing around the bed as he said, "Did you know that when I set out, I wasn't trying to create Demons? I mean, why would I want to attach such hideous, broken things to my name? No, I was trying to _perfect_ my Father's flawed little project. At the time I thought all those volatile feelings and emotions were the problem, so I removed them." He snorted. "I know, I know. I was being an idiot. But _you,_ my little red wonder, have given me a chance to finish what I started."

He stopped at my left side and my eyes flew open when I felt his touch on my skin. The blood bag was empty and Lucifer pinned my arm down as he pushed my sleeve up and slid the IV from my vein.

I was overwhelmed with relief when he let me go.

"That should be enough for now," he said. He flicked his wrist and all the restraints that held me undid themselves.

"W… what are you doing?!"

"You've put so much care into your vessel," he said. He watched impassively as I got to my feet and scrambled backwards across the room. "It would be a shame to damage it."

 _Oh no…_

My eyes stung and blurred in a way I didn't understand. _"Please…"_

"Sorry." Lucifer raised his hand and I was dragged outside again.

I wasn't tethered this time so I swirled around the room, frantically trying to find a way out. There was an iron barred window, an open door, a vent. I tried each of them, but a barrier kept me from escaping.

No salt. No Devil's Trap. It was something deeper… unperceivable.

I could practically taste Lucifer's amusement as he watched me panic. When I finally collected myself in a corner of the ceiling, he asked, "Are you done?"

His light didn't burn as much this time. It wasn't as cold.

He held his hand out to me. "Come here."

 _Up yours, mate._

Lucifer squinted at me, the tiniest of frowns on his face. "Crowley, either you come here, or I _make_ you come here and this becomes way more unpleasant for you."

I was possessed by an awful swell of emotion. Apparently I couldn't escape the effects of the human blood simply by vacating my vessel. I was so afraid. I was so certain I wouldn't survive a second round of Grace. That agony… it would destroy me.

At the same time, I was filled with dread at the thought that Lucifer really _could_ somehow make it worse.

Slowly, reluctantly I drifted from the corner and approached him. That infuriating Devil didn't move. He stood still with his hand out, waiting for _me_ to touch _him._

I hesitated, roiling in disgust as I realized he was treating me like a damn dog that needs training.

I was about to recoil, but Lucifer closed the gap and once again I was overtaken by that pure suffering.

When it stopped I collapsed to the ground; a pool of still, red mist. I was barely aware of being moved by a gentle force. I could sense my vessel as I came closer to it; safe… warm…

With my last ounce of strength I crawled inside and found a deep corner to curl up in.


	2. My Bloody Valentine

And so it went on.

I'd wake up to a blood bag, exchange a few pleasantries with the Light Bringer, he'd have his way with me, and I would be allowed back into my meatsuit to wallow in agony till the next round.

When he wasn't causing me the worst pain imaginable, Lucifer was kind, gentle, even encouraging. He never dropped his 'loving master training his puppy' routine, and damn me but I went along with it for the sake of making things easier on myself.

A part of me raged with indignation every time. I am not some Angel's pet! I'm the King of the Crossroads! The future King of Hell! I am above this!

A smaller, but much more insidious part of me knew that I was at fault for everything, and that every ounce of suffering Lucifer heaped on me was justified. I didn't deserve dignity. After all I was… all the evil I had done…

 _Stop that! Stop!_

The effects of the blood became a constant of fear, rage, and worst of all; guilt. It was to the point that I was sure I was getting transfusions even on the days when I was unconscious. After two weeks, I was used to it. I could barely remember what it was like to be without these horrid emotions… to be so empty.

The effects of Lucifer's Grace was more worrying. The first couple of exposures were just as bad, but after that things started to change. It still hurt… you can't imagine how much it hurt, but it became less soul shattering, and after every round I recovered a little bit quicker. Soon I was through it within a day, then a couple of hours.

Whatever Lucifer was trying to do; it was working. I was changing...

 _Nope. Don't go there, Crowley._

I kept track of time as best as I could. By my estimate, it had been three weeks and two days. Now that I wasn't spending most of my time unconscious, I had long hours to myself to think… to reflect…

My keeper had stopped strapping me down. He always stayed during the transfusions, and with him there I didn't dare rip the IV out of my arm. As for the rest of the time; I suppose he decided if I couldn't escape the room and couldn't get up to much with what was there, he could afford me the freedom to move around.

I was sitting in the chair with my hands clasped on my chest the next time Lucifer walked in. I was still terrified of him, but familiarity had dulled the sensation. Instead I picked up on things: he was earlier than usual, he wasn't looking at me as he entered the room, his gaze was distant, and there was a slight quirk to his brow that meant he was amused.

"Something on your mind?" I asked.

His eyes slowly made their way over to me and he frowned. I was a little worried, but it wasn't his angry frown. "What did you tell the Winchesters about me?"

I tilted my head and thought back to that night. _God_ it was almost a month ago…

"Not much," I answered honestly. "I told them a bit about your relationship with Demons, gave them the Colt and your location… that's about it."

"You didn't tell them about the Horsemen Rings?"

I sat up a little straighter. "Horsemen… as in the _Four_ Horsemen? I don't understand."

"Their rings form the key to my cage, and the Winchesters now have War's _and_ Famine's."

 _Holy mother of sin!_

He squinted at me and his frown deepened. "You didn't know."

" _No,_ I didn't bloody know!"

 _But I do now that you told me, you ignorant putz!_

"Then how did they find out?" He looked away, staring at a spot on the wall instead. "Castiel?"

My leg jiggled as I processed this new information. Lucifer's cage had a key, and the impossible-odd-beating moronic duo already had two out of four pieces…

I turned my attention to the Archangel and found him shaking his head and smirking.

"You don't seem worried," I said carefully.

He smiled at me. "Why would I be worried? Even if they find all four rings… even _if_ they figure out how to get the door open; there is no force on Earth that can make me walk through it."

 _Arrogant son of a bitch._

Lucifer conjured an IV stand and hung a fresh blood bag from it.

I sighed. "Down to business, then?" I automatically rolled my sleeve up and held out my arm.

"This won't be for much longer," he said as he inserted the needle.

I didn't like the sweet relief that flowed through me as the blood entered my veins. I was becoming a damned junkie.

He released my arm and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. I didn't shudder. I was used to it by now.

"At this point, the effects of the blood are permanent," said Lucifer. "We'll give it a couple more days, just to be on the safe side."

 _Now_ I shuddered. I turned my head away from him and bit my bottom lip as unshed tears stung in my eyes. I wasn't about to start crying, but… permanent? Even if I kicked the blood, I was stuck like this now?

I honestly didn't want to go back to that emptiness, but to feel like _this_ for the rest of existence?

Or worse; to come to accept Lucifer's hold over me? To be content with it?

I wrapped my arms around myself and screwed my eyes shut. If I had any food in me I would have thrown up.

Lucifer must have noticed my distress because he started stroking his hand up and down my back. "You're going to be alright, Crowley," he cooed.

 _Seriously not helping…_

"I know you don't feel it right now, but you're already stronger than any Demon has ever been," he said. "With a little more work, you'll be perfect. You'll be something I can be _proud_ to have by my side."

I took a deep breath through my nose and forcefully calmed myself. I decided then and there that this was not going to happen. I would escape. I'd help the Winchesters put Lucifer away. I'd be free of him, and I would _not_ spend the rest of eternity as his pet.

For the first time, an emotion spread through me that _didn't_ make me want to curl up and die. I couldn't name it, but it made my breath hitch, so I clung to it. I latched on and refused to let it go.

When the transfusion was done it was easier to vacate my vessel. I brushed my ethereal form against Lucifer's hand without dread and accepted the Grace that flowed into me with… well… _grace_. It still hurt like nothing else, but it was suddenly an agony that I could bear. When I returned to my vessel I didn't retreat. I stayed at the helm, breathing steadily as the pain faded in a matter of minutes.

When I opened my eyes it was to find the Archangel crouched in front of me, holding my hands in his. His smile was happy and warm, and I smiled back.

 _Le'ts see how happy you look when you're back in your cage, you ugly featherduster._

* * *

A week later I was declared 'Perfect.' Funny, I didn't _feel_ perfect. I felt like a mess.

I was plotting my escape and was nervous as a knife in a gunfight. If Lucifer saw through me I didn't want to think about what he would do.

I was running into a road block though; Wards wouldn't work. My most powerful Enochian wards had failed to make the Devil so much as sneeze.

Trying to kill him was laughably out of the question.

That left escape… but how was I to escape my prison when I didn't even know what was keeping me there?

My break finally came when Lucifer stopped Gracing me and decided to change the game.

He now came and went a couple of times a day with a small syringe of blood instead of one entire bag. He was weaning me off of the stuff, I realized, and it was making me sweaty and jittery. I was a classic junkie in need of a hit. Made it hard to focus.

A couple of days into this new routine he came to give me my injection. I was laying on the bed with an arm over my eyes. I didn't so much as twitch when the needle went into my other arm, but I sighed and relaxed as the knots of tensions left me. I could sense him staring at me. I kept my eyes covered and ignored him.

"Have you ever tried ice cream?" he asked.

The bazaar question caught me off guard and I finally moved my arm so I could look at him. _"What?"_

His eyes glittered with amusement. "Ice cream. Have you tried it?"

"Um… no." I sat up a little, trying to figure out where this strange conversation was going. "It was before my time as a human, and Demons don't eat."

"You don't _have_ to eat, but you _can."_ He poked me in the chest; bloody _poked_ me!

I let it slide and shrugged. "Never really peaked my interest."

"I don't know… Something about the concept appeals to me."

"The concept of _ice cream?"_ I frowned. Was he being serious? "You're the bloody Devil, mate."

He quirked a brow. "And that means I'm not supposed to enjoy things?"

Shifting uncomfortably, I said, "Well, you've got me there."

Lucifer chuckled and then suddenly took my right wrist in his hand. His touch pierced into me with a sharp, searing pain.

" _OWCH!"_ I wrenched it away from him and checked it. There was a mark, slightly raised like a healed burn. It was similar to Enochian, but simpler and beyond my ability to interpret. "What the Hell is this?!"

He smirked and said, "I've decided I'm going to try some."

My eye twitched. "Ice cream?"

"Yes." His infuriating smile broadened as he grabbed my elbow and pulled me to my feet. "And you're coming with me."

I froze, unable to process what he was talking about for several seconds. Finally, it clicked. "The mark… its binding magic."

"Don't worry about that." He wandered away to the door and, looking over his shoulder at me, he said, "Are you coming?"

I didn't move at first. I experimentally flexed my powers; tried to teleport, move something, do anything, but it was no good. Lucifer wasn't going to wait for me. He walked out of the room and I felt an inexplicable pull to follow him.

It turned into a full on panic the further away he got. Unable to stand it, I practically ran to catch up.

A leash… he had put a leash on me!

As I fell in step beside the Archangel I grappled with that now familiar rage, and terror, and so many other things. This was the first time in a month and a half that I had left that room and here I was being led around on an invisible leash to go and try _fucking ice cream!_

 _Why are we still walking around Hell?_

We passed a couple of Demons who bowed out of Lucifer's way and gave me strange, awed looks.

That's when it hit me. The damn Archangel was parading me around like a prized show dog. I was suddenly grateful that the magic binding me was nigh-undetectable. To the Demons it would look like I was just taking a stroll with their beloved creator. I straightened my back, held my head up, played the part of Lucifer's favorite.

 _Because that's what I am, isn't it?_

And he wanted them all to see it.

When we entered the throne room, there was only one Demon present. She was wearing a young woman; short, slight, long dark hair and darker eyes. She leaned against a pillar, the very picture of boredom, but she snapped to attention as we entered the room.

When she spotted me behind the Archangel, her eyes narrowed like daggers. Obviously she recognized me, but I couldn't quite place her.

Lucifer cut into our staring match by saying, "Crowley? Meg? Have you two met?"

 _Meg? Ah yes…_ "Azazel's girl, right? Still poking at the Winchesters?"

"I… you… he's…" Meg spluttered and pointed at me, but stopped when she noticed that Lucifer's gaze had gone frigid.

"He's what?" I could feel the ice in his voice from across the room.

She lowered her eyes to the floor and said, "Nothing. Sorry."

Satisfied, Lucifer held his hand out to me. "Ready?"

Internally I was fuming, but as I walked over to him, I managed to meet the she-Demon's sneaky glare with a smirk and a wink.

Lucifer slid his arm around my shoulder and rested his hand on my back. It was a familiar, intimate gesture that spoke volumes about where I stood with him.

With a rustle of unseen wings we were gone from Hell. All was darkness and rushing air and it ended so abruptly that if the Angel didn't have an arm around me I might have fallen over. I much preferred my own teleporting over _that._

"Are you alright?" he asked. There was laughter in his voice.

I glared at him as I recovered and straightened my suit. "I'm _fine."_

"Good. Then let's get going."

The sun was down, and it was a warm night. There was music playing from beyond a stand of trees… _beautiful_ music; an orchestral symphony that I couldn't name. Music had always been on okay thing, but the tingling that it caused in me now was completely unfamiliar. In almost 300 years I never reacted to anything like this. I stopped and closed my eyes, tilted my head to better hear it.

"Pleasure."

"Hmm?" I looked to the Angel when he spoke.

"You can feel it, can't you?" Lucifer watched me, curious.

Was that what this was? Pleasure?

I remembered enjoying things before, didn't I? Torturing souls? Making deals? That romp in Mesopotamia that earned me the Crossroads? No… those were twisted, retched things compared to this. Craig? No… scotch was like the ghost of what was thrilling through me right now. I liked scotch based on the memory of liking scotch. I couldn't think of anything else that fit. This was such an incredible sensation, and as a Demon I was completely void of it.

"You… _you took this from us…"_ There were tears falling from my eyes, but I didn't care.

The Angel frowned, his hands deep in his pockets and his head lowered. "Yes, and I _do_ regret it. I'd give it back… to all the Demons, but they're too broken. It would tear them apart. You're the only one I could give this to."

I was trembling; half grateful, and half horrified.

He approached me carefully, like he was approaching an injured animal. Gently he took my shoulder in his strong grip. "I know you're having a moment here, but I'd really like to try that ice cream."

I swallowed, swiped a sleeve across my eyes, and let him lead me where he would. We passed through the trees and along some water. It was like a dream. There were palaces, a pagoda, a roller coaster, willow trees; all lit up with millions of colored lights.

Somehow I knew the place. _"Tivoli Gardens,"_ I murmured.

"You recognize it?"

"Barely. It's been a long time since I've been to Copenhagen." I didn't remember it being so beautiful. "The roller coaster's new."

Lucifer smirked. "You're not interested in trying it, are you?"

I thought about that; stared at the ride as the train screamed through a great loop, its passengers shrieking in delight. They sounded so _alive._ "I think… maybe?"

"Ice cream first."

We found ourselves in front of a little booth; ornately carved and delicately painted. There were pictures of various frozen treats plastered across the front, and droves of people lined up outside.

Lucifer could have parted them like the Red Sea, but he was content with waiting his turn. He completely ignored the funny looks we were getting, or rather _he_ was getting. He was still rocking the 'plague victim' look after all.

In order to pass the time, I asked, "Why this place?"

"Death," he answered absently. "We were talking and… in the short time he's been out, he's already tried ice cream from all over the world. According to him, Tivoli Gardens has some of the best."

"Death likes ice cream?" My eyebrows rose in alarm.

"He likes junk food in general; pizza, pickle chips, cotton candy… He said if I'm going to destroy it all, I should at least experience some of it before it's too late." He shrugged. "Ice cream sounded interesting."

I let that sink in. _Death likes junk food?!_

When we got to the counter Lucifer ordered a giant waffle cone stuffed with five different flavors. He eagerly demanded that nuts and caramel be dribbled on top. "Crowley? What would you like?"

I stared at the selection of flavors, none of which I could even imagine trying when I was alive. I had no frame of reference for any of this. Wrinkling my nose, I said, "I don't know."

"He'll have the same as me."

A mountain of dairy, nuts, and sugar was shoved into my hands and no one objected when Lucifer and I walked away without paying.

He led me back to the water and plunked us both down on an empty bench. We stared at the lights as he absently licked at his ice cream in silence for several minutes. I tried my own. Rich, sweet, delicious… but so _cold._ Being around Lucifer so much, I was always cold. I couldn't say I liked it.

Lucifer ate every last bite of his cone while mine melted. When he was done, he sat forward and sighed. "Sometimes I do have to admire these hairless monkeys."

I eyed him warily. He sounded so damn _sad_ , and his hunched shoulders, his drawn brow... Here was Satan himself admitting he admired something about Humanity. Could some small part of him actually _regret_ what he was doing?

I snorted at the notion. "Then why destroy them?"

"Because they're not perfect," the Angel answered breathlessly. "Even _this_ isn't perfect. Imagine if it was? How worthy it would be?" He turned his attention to me as I tried to keep the melted cream from sloshing out of the cone and onto my hands. He reached out and touched it, caused it to vanish. "You barely ate any."

"It's too cold," I answered honestly. _I_ was too cold. I was freezing, I felt every one of my long centuries, and I was so very tired…

"Fair enough." He leaned back, content. "Still wanna try the roller coaster?"

My hands were shaking as chills ran up my spine. I was coming down from the blood. "Not… not tonight." I just wanted to return to my prison where things made some sort of sense.

Lucifer seemed to catch on that something was wrong. He took stock of my condition and said, "Let's get you back."


	3. Dark Side of the Moon

I hated how exhausted I was when we got back to Hell. Thankfully Lucifer teleported us directly to my cell, because he practically had to carry me to the chair before I collapsed.

If any Demons saw me in this state, I'd never live it down.

"I'm sorry," said Lucifer as he crouched in front of me. He produced a syringe of blood from thin air and slid it into my arm just above his binding mark.

I twisted my relieved sigh into an indignant huff. "You're _sorry?!"_

"The amount of blood I've exposed you to... it'll take you a while to recover from such a strong addiction, and I'm afraid it's gonna get worse before it gets better."

 _Oh… bullocks…_

As he withdrew from my wrist, Lucifer put his fingers on his mark. It stung for a second, but it was gone.

I massaged my sore skin and glared. "I'd rather quit cold turkey."

He examined the empty syringe thoughtfully for a moment before banishing it. "No… I'm not gonna let you suffer like that."

 _Let me suffer?!_

It took a great deal of strength not to sucker punch the Archangel in his rotten jaw. Human anger doesn't burn as hot as the Demon equivalent, but it's more visceral and demanding. Once it was under control I rolled my eyes and growled, _"Don't do me any favors."_

Without warning, Lucifer reached out and put his hands on either side of my face. He was still crouching in front of me and he tilted my head down so I was forced to stare into his cold blue eyes.

I gripped the arms of the chair as his frigid power pierced through me. I wanted to flee my vessel and fly as far away from here as I could get.

 _Maybe I can hide the stratosphere and spend the rest of my existence as a cloud? That would be nice._

"All I've _done_ is do you favors," Lucifer said in his softest, iciest voice. "I've given you more than I've given _anyone_ … maybe even my Father, and I know you don't see it yet, but you will. I _promise."_

He released me and slowly stood, backing away.

My eyes were wide as I watched him move out of my personal space.

 _Holy shit do I ever need to get the bloody Hell out of Hell…_

Suddenly awkward, Lucifer ran a hand through his hair and said, "I'll be back in a bit. You get some rest."

He was quick to turn on his heal and retreat, but I was hit by an epiphany. I couldn't figure a way out of my cell because I didn't know what was keeping me here, but if Lucifer took me out on another excursion, I might be able to do something about his binding sigil!

"Wait," I said softly. Burning with shame, I kept my eyes lowered. I _really_ didn't want to do this, but it was too late; the Devil paused at the door and was looking at me over his shoulder with one eyebrow raised.

I swallowed stiffly. "About tonight… I… I enjoyed it, immensely. Not the ice cream so much, but the fresh air, and the lights, and… and the music…" Just thinking about that music made my breath hitch. The sincerity in my voice disturbed me. "I didn't thank you, so…" I forced myself to look at him. "Thank you."

He relaxed with an easy smile. It was almost as though he was relieved about something.

 _What does the Devil have to be worried about?_

"It _was_ fun, wasn't it?" His face relaxed into a distant expression for a moment before he nodded at me and left, closing the door behind him.

Slowly I let out a shuddering breath. If I didn't escape before Lucifer figured out that was (mostly) a sell, I was going to be one dead Demon.

I braced my elbows on my knees, laced my fingers together, rested my brow against them, and closed my eyes. I couldn't use my powers while the mark was on me, so that ruled out anything Demonic. I'd _could_ use magic…

Most witches pulled their power from Demons, but I knew a thing or two more than most witches. The real magic; the _old_ magic… _that_ comes from the Earth. So, I needed an old spell; one that could remove something as ludicrous as Satan's power, didn't require much by way of ingredients, and didn't need any flashy preparation.

With no access to my library, this was going to be about as easy as convincing an Angel to make a Crossroads deal, but I actually managed to pull _that_ off once. I'd find a way to do this as well.

I withdrew into my mind, only keeping a loose grasp on my meatsuit so I could listen for Lucifer's return. Deep down in there I careful dug through my memory. Book after book, spell after spell crossed through my mind, quickly observed and just as quickly discarded. It was an exercise in frustration. Most of what I knew by heart was nowhere near powerful enough for the task at hand, and any magic that _could_ do the trick was incredibly difficult to weave and required rare ingredients I had no way to access.

The older and more obscure I went, the harder entire spells were to recall. There were references in my brain to something just beyond my reach.

Slowly I pieced it together.

Fire…

Fire that can burn anything; requiring only blood and words.

I've always been good with fire, and my vessel's heart was still pumping the good stuff around. It was exactly for emergencies like this that I insisted on wearing a living meatsuit. Flesh is Earth, and life is power.

Learned that from my mother (may Satan devour her soul).

The words were in a long forgotten form of proto-Gaelic that had not been heard since before rise of Rome. I knew which Grimoire I wrote them in. I knew the exact spot on the exact shelf where I could find the little black book… in the library I couldn't get to.

I could not for the life of me remember the words themselves.

 _Someone's coming._

The footsteps pattering down the hall were light, quick, almost cautions. They were nothing like the confident gait of Lucifer's tall vessel. No, this was someone small and sneaky. Someone who knew they shouldn't be here.

I drifted out of my own mind to find I must have been in there longer then I thought. I was crashing again.

The intruder didn't try anything with the door yet, so I stood and slid my hands into my pockets to hide their shaking. I couldn't so much as touch that door, but could a Demon on the outside open it? My curiosity outweighed my fear, so I said, "It's open."

There was a moment where nothing happened and I doubted if I really heard someone out there; then the copper door handle snapped down and the ancient wood groaned as it was pushed open.

Standing there looking nervous, was Meg. Of _course_ it was Meg. She had to be one of the only Demons left who was bold enough to disturb Lucifer's personal plaything.

She said nothing, just stared with her nose wrinkled in confusion. It was freaking me out a little.

"Well? Are you going to stand there, or are you coming in?" I wasn't worried about her hurting me. In my current sorry state, I had to remind myself I could use my powers, but I still had them.

If she could enter the room, it would prove a few theories.

She tried. Lifted her foot and everything, but after a second, she put it back down.

"I can't." She tilted her head, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "Lucifer has you trapped in there."

I rolled my eyes. "Just because you're barred from entry, doesn't mean I can't get out."

"Then come out here." She flashed me with a malicious grin. It was the smile of a dark, unfeeling monster.

Something new twisted inside of me. I was getting better at naming the various feelings I'd been cursed with, but some of them still eluded me.

This wasn't fear, though… or hatred.

I took a long look at the true creature hiding beneath that pretty flesh. Most Demons are hideous; scarred, burned, bits gouged out, skin ripped off, muscle and sinew on display. We each bore the marks of the torture that created us and it rendered us as ugly, festering _things_ that barely resembled the human's we once were.

Meg, though… Azazel had been careful, almost artful in her creation. Flesh removed with elegant symmetry, curling patterns cut and burned into her. She had suffered as much as any Demon, but her "father" had made her into something he would call beautiful.

I might have called her that as well…

Only her suffering, her stripped humanity, her forced loyalty to the Archangel; it all caused that awful twisting inside of me and left a bad taste in my mouth.

 _Pity?_

She was talking. "You _can't_ leave _,_ can you? And here I was worried. You're Lucifer's prisoner! I can't even imagine what tortures he has in store for you, traitor!"

I quirked an eyebrow at her. "Torture?" I lazily gazed around my cell for effect. "The room's a bit spartan, but I wouldn't call it torture."

She laughed, clearly not believing me.

I stepped closer to the door and leaned towards her conspiratorially. "And if I am a prisoner, then why did you see me in the throne room? Why would dear Lucy be taking me on excursions to Earth?"

That gave her pause. Her eyes narrowed at me and her lips pursed as she squinted, straining to see something.

"Um… have I got something on my face?" I asked.

"I can't…" Her eyes widened and she gasped as she backed away from the door in alarm.

 _Well that's worrying._

I got as close to the exit as I could. "What's wrong?"

"What's _wrong?!"_ she spat. She pressed her back against the far wall of the hall and kept her eyes averted. "You might be wearing Crowley's meatsuit, but you're _not_ him! You're… what _are_ you?"

I felt that creeping cold that Lucifer left in me as I looked down at myself. I was still a Demon, wasn't I? Sure, I had _feelings_ now, but I didn't change that much!

"What do you see?" I demanded.

The skin around Meg's eyes tightened, but she didn't answer.

" _Meg…"_ The threat in my voice was empty, but I _really_ wanted to know what was wrong with me.

The Demon snarled, white hot anger giving her the nerve to glare at me again. "Don't you dare think you can order me around, you _freak!"_

I blinked at her a couple of times and then smirked as a nasty thought crossed my mind. "Why don't you go fetch Lucifer and we'll hear what _he_ has to say about that?"

She surged forward like an animal and got as close to my face as the invisible barrier would let her.

I kept still, my expression neutral. In this enraged state she was more likely to let something slip.

"If you weren't safe in that damn room, I'd be strangling you with your own intestines right now."

I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could, Meg was thrown away from me and pinned against the far wall.

It was Lucifer's voice that answered her. "I know I didn't specifically say the words, _'don't mess with my stuff,'_ but I didn't think I needed to." He was walking briskly down the hall towards us and the hard lines on his face had me retreating from the open doorway.

His ire wasn't directed at me, though. He stopped in front of Meg and said, "I'm very disappointed, child."

I was ready to close the door and let him deal with her, but I froze when the Demon shrieked in pain. The ghosts of my own suffering flitted through me, making me shudder.

" _Please,"_ she breathed between screams. _"I… I'm sorry… I didn't…"_

Lucifer cocked his head. "Sorry's not good enough."

I realized he intended to destroy her, and a part of me hurt at the thought _._ For some reason, I didn't want the spunky little Demon to die, especially not screaming in pain where I could hear it.

I stepped back into the doorway and cautiously said, "Lucifer? Would you… be a dear and stop that?"

To my amazement, he listened. Meg still hung suspended against the stone, but she was limp and panting in relief.

The Archangel glanced over his shoulder at me, his eyebrows raised.

"Just let her go," I said with a shrug.

He squinted suspiciously. "Let her _go?_ She threatened you!"

I rolled my eyes. _"Please._ We're _Demons._ That's how we show affection."

I could tell he wasn't buying what I was selling, but his eyes wandered towards the ceiling as he thought for a moment. He sighed and said, "Alright. She's free to go."

"Really?" My face scrunched up as I watched Meg slump to the floor.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" The corners of the bastard Angel's mouth were curled in amusement. He turned back to the collapsed Demon and said, "You. If I catch you threatening him again, I you're gonna get a one way ticket to non-existenceville."

Meg forced herself shakily to her feet and kept her head down in supplication. "Yes my Lord…"

She shied a glance at me and I could see her confusion and wonder laid bare. She nodded in as close as a Demon can get to gratitude before scurrying away.

As Lucifer came into the room and prattled about some new human invention he wanted to try, I sank into my chair and struggled to get enough air into my lungs.

 _Your vessel's lungs… remember?_

It was as though some heavy weight was bearing down on me.

 _Lucifer did what I asked…_

 _He doesn't do anything for anyone but himself..._

 _So why would he listen to me?_

* * *

Lucifer started dragging me out as often as he could, to the point that I suspected he might be putting off the Apocalypse in favor of spending time with his new _pet._

I appreciated getting out of my cell, but it left me very little time to myself. Every moment I did get, I spent trying to piece together that elusive fire spell.

Weeks passed, and I didn't make a lick of progress.

I was stewing over this for the thousandth time when Lucifer's voice cut through me. "What do you mean, _the Winchesters are dead?!"_

We were standing in the throne room, preparing to go out again. The Devil was glaring at an exceptionally ugly Demon who was wearing a plain middle-aged man.

"They were gunned down by a couple of Hunters," said the Demon. "Saw it myself."

Lucifer was rigid, his hands curling into claws at his side. Coldly and calmly he said, "You know that I need Sam Winchester alive?"

"Uh… yeah, I guess." The poor sod wasn't running. Couldn't he smell the deep shit he was in?

"You saw these Hunters kill him, and you didn't do anything to stop it?"

The Demon shrugged. "You told me to keep an eye on him, not save him."

I flinched when Lucifer snapped his fingers. The room was momentarily filled with screaming and fire, and then we were alone. Nothing was left of the Demon or his meatsuit except a small pile of ash.

The Archangel suddenly rounded on me. "You stay here."

"What?" I blinked at him in shock and fear.

" _Stay here,"_ Lucifer ordered with a firm frown. "I need to go deal with this."

He didn't even wait for me to reply. With a flutter of great wings, he was gone.

I was alone in the throne room, and though I still bore that infernal mark, I didn't feel that desperate need to follow the Archangel.

The Winchesters were dead.

No one was left to stop the Devil.

I clutched at the front of my suit as that bright little thing I'd been clinging to slipped from my grasp and flickered out.

"No need to look so grim."

I whipped around and found a thin man - papery white skin and the blackest hair and eyes - sitting primly on the Throne of Hell like he owned it. He wore a dark suit that was even nicer than mine, and he twiddled a cane between his hands. On one of his long, twiggy fingers was a black signet ring set with a white stone.

"Those two annoyances never stay dead for long." His right eye twitched and his mouth tightened into a thin line. "It's quite frustrating, actually."

This guy was no Demon, nor was he an Angel. At first glance he appeared to be exactly what he was; an old man.

I knew better, though. I lowered my hand and peered beyond the veil of humanity he wore. There I found something my mind couldn't quite comprehend; something without darkness or light, beyond void and form, older than time and more powerful then Creation itself.

I closed my eyes and stumbled away, hunched over as I struggled to catch my breath.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked as though nothing just happened.

I pulled myself together and straightened up. When I looked at him again, I didn't try to see beyond what was in front of me.

"Yeah," I answered. I searched myself and found I was more amused then afraid. "Lucifer send you to babysit me?"

He stared for a moment before cracking a dignified little smile. "It's more like I got rid of him so we can talk."

 _Got rid of him? Lucy went to save Sam… "You_ killed the Winchesters?" I squeaked. I wanted to be mad at him for ruining my last and best hope, but yelling at Death would be a very bad idea.

"No. I don't _kill_ anyone unless it's to stop the fabric of reality from collapsing." He spoke like he was explaining why we don't stick knives in the toaster. "I'm simply the thing that happens when one goes from being alive, to being something else. _You_ should know. You looked at my true form and recognized it from… say? 287 years ago?"

 _He knows the exact year that Fergus died?_ But that shouldn't be possible. I did my research long before the Light Bringer sprung his cage, and this particular Horseman was buried since before recorded history till just about 2 months ago.

"Weren't you sealed away during that _wee clarty stour?"_ I slipped into my old brogue in the name of humor.

Death rose to his feet and I was surprised to find he was about the same height as my rather short meatsuit. He gestured at himself and said, _"This_ is only a representation of what I am, and though I did miss walking the Earth while it was locked away, I never needed it to perform my function."

"Ah… That explains a lot, actually." We were getting off topic, though. I tilted my head and asked, "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"This." Death reached into the left pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a little book. The dark leather bindings of it were oddly familiar.

 _It can't be…_

"Where did you get that?!" I rushed over and took it from him. After turning it over in my hands and checking the inscription, I confirmed it was the _exact_ Grimoire I needed; the one with the spell I was trying to remember!

"From your library," Death answered simply. He stood back and watched as I frantically flipped to the correct page. "Your house was in the process of being burned down, but I put a stop to that."

I barely heard him. There it was! Written out in my own practised hand.

But… how in the bloody _Hell_ did he know I needed this?

As though reading my mind, he said, "I'm Death. You're dead. In a way, you belong to me even more then you do to Lucifer."

I shuddered at that. I wasn't so keen on belonging to anyone.

Nothing could quell my panicked excitement though. Nearly at a loss, I blinked at him and breathed, "But _why?"_

"Because you and I are in a similar position, but where the bonds Lucifer has on me are unbreakable, _you_ have a chance of escaping."

I took a deep breath as I put it all together. "You want me to stop him."

"Yes." Death held up on finger. "And before you ask, I can't give you my ring now. I'll need you to fetch something for me first." He produced a heavy, folded piece of parchment and slipped it into the pages of my Grimoire. "Follow those instructions and do _not_ try to find me until the other three rings have been obtained."

He paused, and then as an afterthought he added, "And bring Dean Winchester with you. I need to give that pest a talk."

"Um… sure…" I wasn't as eloquent as I like to think myself, but in my defence, I was completely overwhelmed.

"You'd better hurry."

"Right!" I got to studying the spell and absently walked past him. Without thinking, I sank down into the Throne. My eyes flittered over the aging paper and right away my heart began to sink.

There was a good reason this bit of magic was long forgotten. The fire required a bit of blood as an accelerant and a bit of soul for kindling. The words acted as the flint and the whole thing would burn so hot that any human who ever tried it was utterly consumed.

"I can't use this…" Ignoring that I'd be cooked to a cinder, I didn't have any soul to get the ball rolling in the first place.

Death cleared his throat to get my attention. Once I met his eyes, he said, "We're both counting on this. Do you really think I would give you a spell you couldn't use?"

I swallowed thickly. He needed me to survive and stop the Devil, so he must think I could stand the fire.

On the other hand, Demons might have once been souls, but they're stripped of everything that gave a soul value. If Death thought I had what it took to get the spell going, then _what does that make me?!_

Oh well… Nothing for it but to try.

"I need a knife," I said.

Death held out a little dagger that looked like it was crafted during the Bronze Age. Tucking my book away in my jacket, I took the blade from him and used it to cut a deep gash into my left hand. I pressed the oozing wound against Lucifer's mark on my right wrist, but before I moved on to the next step I looked up at the dark figure.

 _Can it really be this easy?_

He huffed and waved at me to get on with it.

Shifting my shoulders, I closed my eyes and muttered the newly memorised words.

I expected the same kind of searing pain that the Devil's Grace caused. What I got was a tiny lick of flame that flickered in my smoky core and hardly burned at all.

In my shock, I failed to keep it from going out.

All of my breath left me and I laughed. "It worked!"

"I'm happy for you," Death said with a deep frown. "But Sam and Dean have returned from Heaven and Lucifer will be heading back soon."

" _Bullocks."_ My hand was still bleeding, so pressed it over the mark again and repeated the process.

This time, when the flame ignited I fanned it and fed it till it grew into a roaring fire. It still didn't burn though. It licked along my incorporeal form without damaging me in the slightest, and the stronger it grew, the warmer and stronger I felt.

I didn't realise how deeply Lucifer's ice had pierced me until it started melting. This was like settling next to a well fed hearth after days of walking through freezing rain.

I couldn't completely control the flames, but I found I could direct them. I guided them down my vessel's left arm, into my hand, through the cut, and onto the Devil's mark. Finally there was the agony that I had been anticipating, but I bit down on my scream and focused until that burning faded back to gentle warmth.

Once I reluctantly extinguished the fire, I opened my eyes. The mark was gone, leaving nothing but an ugly burn on my vessel's flesh. Death was gone. Lucifer wasn't back yet.

For the first time and almost two months, I was alone… and I was _free._

Flexing my powers was like stretching a long unused muscle, but it didn't matter.

I teleported the Hell out of there.


End file.
